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“YOU LYING BITCH! SETTING ME UP TO TAKE THE FALL?!”
“You goddamn… Hey, mister! Here! Use my dumbbell! Smash her door down! Teach that bitch a lesson!”
The monitor didn’t cover 101’s doorway, but I could piece it together.
Clearly, 101 hadn’t opened her door as promised. 102 had stepped out alone—right into the path of the killer’s bloodstained sickle.
I slumped against the wall, weak with relief that I hadn’t given in to the impulse to join them.
When death is on the line, a makeshift alliance means nothing.
Everyone just wants to live.
102 kept yelling: “Scared now, huh? Hiding like a rat? Think you’re so clever?” 101 screamed back from behind her door: “Jake! Where’s all that tough guy bullshit now? Only brave enough to bully women? If you’re so tough, take the killer down!”
“FUCK YOU, YOU LITTLE SLUT! I got rid of your little friend three years ago, I’ll send you to join her in three minutes!”
“Y-you… kill him! He saw your face! If you don’t kill him, he’ll go to the police!!”
“What?! Don’t listen to her! She’s lying! You— YOU SON OF A—!”
A chaotic scuffle erupted – grunts, impacts, the clang of metal, punctuated by 101’s shrill voice egging them on.
Listening to the chaotic noise, I felt the blood freeze in my veins.
101 and 102 knew each other?
And… 102 was a murderer too?!
Panic seized me all over again.
Knowing a secret like this was beyond dangerous.
Even if the killer outside was taken down by 102, he’d still come to silence me next!
I was trapped—no way out.
My hands trembled; the table slipped from my grip and clattered to the floor.
BOOM!
Another thunderclap shook the building, snapping me back. Ignoring the brutal fight outside, I scrambled towards the window on hands and knees. Ground floor! I could climb out! Typhoon be damned, it was better than waiting for a killer!
I yanked the curtains open.
Lightning flashed, illuminating the world outside.
I saw the small garden and banana trees that had seemed so peaceful by day… and also…
A man in a raincoat, holding a sickle, standing right outside my window.
He stood motionless in the wind and rain, as if waiting for me to come to him.
Gang operation.
Ethan’s warning echoed in my skull. My legs gave way. I collapsed to the floor. Breathing felt impossible; my heart hammered like it wanted to burst from my chest.
Long seconds passed.
Nothing happened. Fighting the tremors in my hand, I opened my phone camera and slowly, carefully, extended it just past the windowsill, angling it towards where he’d stood.
My hand shook uncontrollably, making the video feed jump, but fortunately, the man outside didn’t move.
He seemed to be a lookout, not here to attack—yet.
I didn’t dare open the curtains again.
Glass would be so much easier to break than the door!
I crawled back along the wall to my corner, shaking as I texted Ethan: “Another one outside my window! I can’t run!”
No immediate reply. Panic clawed at my throat. “Tell the police! Don’t let him escape!”
“The guy in 102… he killed someone too! What do I DO?”
“I… I…” Tears blurred the screen.
I was completely paralyzed. Trapped. If I barricaded the door, what about the one outside? If I didn’t barricade, how long would the flimsy door hold? Or… would they attack from both sides?
A thousand frantic thoughts collided. One pierced through the chaos: If it’s a gang, why didn’t the lookout help his buddy fight 102?Was he just lookout? Or… was he utterly confident the killer would win?
